


Here I'll make a home

by coffeeisoxygen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:05:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeisoxygen/pseuds/coffeeisoxygen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean doesn’t know what made him say it, or how the words slipped out before he even realized they had formed in his mind and taken hold of his tongue. How his guard could have wavered for even a second long enough to let the meticulously buried thought break free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here I'll make a home

**Author's Note:**

> My very first attempt at fluff.  
> Also, I absolutely believe that Deano is a great big cuddler, I just don't think he likes to actually admit it. Yet. xD  
> Originally posted over on my tumblr, where my username is also coffeeisoxygen.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural nor its characters and I make no profit from this.

Dean doesn’t know what made him say it, or how the words slipped out before he even realized they had formed in his mind and taken hold of his tongue. How his guard could have wavered for even a second long enough to let the meticulously buried thought break free.

He supposes he can brush it off as a sign of how utterly exhausted he is, having had one mother of a long day, stuck in his car by himself on a stakeout that definitely placed in the top five of worst ones ever. It was in the middle of summer, the sun high on the sky where thick, dark clouds were slowly gathering close, bringing promises of rain and thunder. Dean had felt himself grow genuine sympathy for turkeys as he’d slowly been cooking in the unrelenting heat gathering thick in the confinement of his car. Not even rolling down the front seat windows to let the wind flow through had done much good, and he’d been sweating and growing a bitch of a headache while his initially good mood had quickly melted away, riding out on each drop of perspiration that slid down his overheated skin.

And the worst part of it all was that the entire day had been a bust. Thank god for nerdy little brothers that look at libraries as though they are the freaking pearly gates, Dean had thought to himself after Sam had called him up to inform him that he was going to be staying at the town library doing research for a while longer. Upon hearing the annoyed tone in his big brother’s voice, knowing him all too well, Sam had told him to go back to the motel and grab some Z’s, and Dean certainly wasn’t going to argue with that. As he’d started up the Impala, the usually wonderful sound of her rumbling to life beneath him made him clench his jaw as it sliced through his head, pounded around inside the walls of his skull as though trying to shatter through. 

He could not remember a time when he had ever been craving the uncomfortable bed offered by another shabby motel room more, but the thought of dropping onto the worn, squeaky mattress was even more appealing than a shot of whiskey, but if he was being totally honest with himself there was a solid chance he’d just about make it through the door before collapsing onto the floor, having fallen asleep before his entire body even hit the shabby carpeting. Not that it would matter. He was so tired, his head throbbing relentlessly behind heavy-lidded eyes, that he wouldn’t mind where he fell asleep as long as it wasn’t in the car on the drive back. That would be sort of a bad idea.

As he was only a few minutes away from the motel, the first drop of rain landed with a soft thud on the front window. Another one joined a few seconds after, and shortly the window-cleaners were dancing back and forth in a rhythm that didn’t exactly help his struggling to stay awake. 

“Hey, Castiel”, he said and felt his body jerk slightly, startled at the sound of his own voice and the words it formed. “I’m about four minutes away from the motel. If you could meet me there it’d be just swell.”

Dean had sighed in relief as his baby’s rumbles finally slowed into soft purrs and then died out completely as he pulled her to a stop outside the small motel and yanked the key out of the ignition. Opening the door and stepping out, Dean turned his face up to greet the rain, let the drops caress his face as he dragged in a long breath of slightly chiller air, let it fill his lungs for a moment before making sure the car was locked.

He barely got the keys in the lock of the motel door before it yanked open to reveal an angel of the Lord with a perpetual crease between his brows. 

“Hello, Dean”, Castiel greeted while his gaze dragged quickly over the hunters body, crease deepening as he narrowed his eyes in slight concern. “Are you alright?”

“You came”, Dean said, ignoring the question, his own brows raised in slight surprise as he made his way past the angel and tossed the keys on the small table, hearing the door click softly closed behind him. 

“You asked me to”, came the reply as Dean felt the unwavering gaze linger on him, and no way did he get goosebumps from the feeling. 

“Yes, I did.” Dean shook off his half-soaked jacket and tossed it onto one of the chairs by the table before turning back to face Castiel.

“You need my assistance?” 

Dean felt a delighted smirk grow across his face, surprised that his aching muscles managed as much. “Yup.”

Castiel frowned even more at the sight of that smirk but decided to ignore it and went back to the topic at hand. “What do you need?” 

The angel barely had time to finish the sentence before Dean suddenly lurched forward, wrapping determined arms around his waist and walking him back towards the bed. Hitting the frame, they both fell down onto it, Dean still stubbornly clutching his waist and burying his face in Castiel’s neck, dragging a startled little chuckle from him.

“Really, Dean? _Again_?” 

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Cas, this wasn’t a booty call”, Dean grunted against his neck, trying and failing to sound appalled when instead his voice was laced with amusement.

“Oh.” Cas actually sounded surprised, and Dean couldn’t help but huff a laugh against him. “Are you alright?” Castiel asked then, arms slowly coming up to wrap around Dean’s own waist, and Dean could feel him tense up in concern.

This wasn’t usual for them. Dean would get very affectionate while coming down from a post-sex high, sure, but outside of that he was not a very touchy-feely dude, so he wasn’t surprised when Castiel’s first thought was that something must be wrong. 

Dean shifted a little and let out a long sigh, feeling Cas’s arms tighten slightly around him. “Yeah, Cas, I’m alright. Just tired. Long day.”

He felt Cas nod once against him and relax.

“You got somewhere you gotta be?” Dean asked.

“Yes”, Castiel answered, voice low and soft.

Dean grunted in disappointed response. “Where?”

Castiel shifted his head to the side so that his lips came to rest just above Dean’s ear. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

Dean couldn’t help but grin at that. “Bastard.” He moved enough to place a gentle kiss against the underline of Cas’s stubbled jaw before sinking back down. “Just so you know”, he sighed contentedly, “I plan on taking up permanent residence right here.” 

“In this motel?” Castiel asked incredulously, causing Dean to huff another laugh. 

“No.” He wanted to come up with a smart-ass remark, but he was just too tired, the clutches of sleep already surrounding him and trying to drag him down. “Right here”, he said instead and rubbed his nose against Cas’s shoulder. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He expected Cas to make some comment about his angel strength, but all he said was, “I wouldn’t think to try.”

“And if you ever tell anyone about this, I will deny it until I’m blue in the face.”

Castiel sighed, suddenly sounding weary. “I know me being in a male vessel is a point of concern for you, Dean - -“

“Not _that_ , assbutt”, Dean grunted, a fond chuckle following. Dean did not use pet names, but assbutt seemed to slip out of his mouth more and more often when referring to the angel. He couldn’t help it, and the exasperated look it fueled on Castiel’s face every single time he used it made it even harder to stop. He could even feel that look on him now, though he couldn’t see it, and it was almost better. “This”, he continued. “Cuddling. I don’t do cuddling. I got a reputation to uphold.”

Castiel turned his face up to the ceiling in an actual laugh, a quiet one, but a laugh nonetheless, and Dean felt his chest swell as he found himself struggling to catch a breath. “Your secret is safe with me.”

And then it happened. A laugh punched out of his still too tight chest as tightened his arms around Cas, and before he even had time to think, the words had already left his mouth. “I love you.”  
Maybe it was because of how tired he was, or because the tightness in his chest had cut off the air supply to his brain, he doesn’t know. The words just slipped out, unbidden and sudden. All he knows is that Cas is warm and solid against him, steady arms cocooning him in the closest thing to safety he’s ever felt, and even though his gut clenches in fear as the three little words have left his traitorous mouth, alarm bells ringing sharp and loud in his head – he finds himself lying completely still in the sudden thick silence of the room, not even bothering to try and smooth them over or turn them into a joke.

That, as much as the words themselves, takes him completely by surprise. But he doesn’t take them back either, knowing it won’t make a difference. Uttered or not, buried or not, it won’t change the fact that their meaning have been a painfully intense truth for ages, and he’s wasted enough of precious time on repression and denial. 

Cas’s arms tighten around him, drawing him closer still, and even hidden in the angel’s neck Dean can feel the pull of the corners of Castiel’s mouth upward in an unusually wide smile.  
“Sleep, Dean”, he says, the soft rumble of his voice tickling Dean’s cheek as it makes its way up the angel’s stubbled throat.

Dean lets out another soft sigh, nuzzling deeper into Cas’s neck until his nose is perfectly fitted in the crease where neck meets shoulder, feeling Castiel shiver slightly against him.  
As he slips further into the welcoming darkness, the chaos of his mind fading into soft, hazy whispers and blurring images, the last clear thought he remembers staying with him is how he could have fought this for so long.

If Dean were to die right now and somehow end up in Heaven, he wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up to find himself exactly where he is.


End file.
